


Just two men and a book

by Sneezysoul



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Charlie is there for like 3 seconds, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Time-appropriate mentions of homophobia?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 18:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18481456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneezysoul/pseuds/Sneezysoul
Summary: The somewhat inconsistent timeline of William and Wilson's friendship.





	1. 5

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU where Maxwell and Wilson knew each other before.  
> I'm kind of a sucker for that. This story is pretty much random daydreaming of that.
> 
> The chapters are all a time skip of 5 years fyi.

William had just moved into his new home about a month ago, so he didn’t know where things were, and was just getting the hang of simply walking across the street. Landmarks were still a new concept to him, and he still had trouble recognizing which house was his sometimes.

His parents told him that he had to be very careful, and not to talk to strangers. He was okay as long as he did those two things outside of his yard. In his own yard, he was as a king in a castle, defended by surrounding walls.

They were just fences, and he’d seen the neighbor’s cat hop them once, but he felt safe anyways. What kind of bad guy would jump a fence? Besides, they could easily just walk up the driveway when William’s mom was home. She almost always left the front gate open.

Why he was outside now wasn’t really to play in the yard, though. He’d been meaning to visit the other kid’s homes around this time to make a few friends. His dad had gently pushed him out the door with his new lunchbox, telling him to go out and make some pals.

Hah....pals. Sure.

He grips his lunchbox tighter. He’d never had a pal before. He’d only ever had gals.

Not because he was a wimp, though! He wasn’t - will never be - a wimp!

He just.....liked how girls played. They were gentle, and they had really creative play pretends. They didn’t wrestle and scream and spit on each other like most boys William could recall trying to befriend.

Though....maybe it was because he was really a momma’s boy. He couldn’t help but love his mom a lot. His dad was almost always gone or always picking on him in that ‘boy’ way. His mom was really nice, and so he’d just...slowly gotten used to nice things.

His dad called him ‘slow’ for being so ‘girly’, but William didn’t care. He liked things like dressup and flowers. That didn’t make him any less manly, it just made him feel better, is all.

The street felt a little empty and he took his time appreciating some of his neighbor’s flower gardens. His mom had picked this place because her friends lived here, and he has to wonder if he’d ever seen her friend’s flowers, or if they even grew them.

He only ever met them once, after all.

A scream breaks him out of his thoughts, dragging his attention from the flower garden he’d been admiring.

He jogs to where he’d heard the scream, “Let her go!” he hears, and it prompts him to move faster.

Turning the corner, he noticed a group of boys standing in someone’s driveway. Three were quite tall - taller than William, anyway. They must have been older.

The smallest one, the fourth one, was being held by the back of his collar, and was wiggling to break free of the hold while crying.

Then William saw it: One of the older boys - one with dirty blonde hair and a coat far too large for them - held what looked like a rather large mouse. The boy laughed and shook the mouse in his hand as if it were a toy airplane instead.

“Why? You’re supposed to share!” the older boy asks. The mouse squeaks as his grip goes tighter.

“You’re hurting her!” the smaller boy cries. His cheeks were wet with tears. He looked so scared.  
William felt himself get angry. This wasn’t right at all!

This wasn’t _right_ ; that mouse was that kid’s pet! They were hurting it!

He had to stop them!

He does the only thing his five year old mind could think of to do in such a situation: he flings his lunchbox as hard as he can.

Not his brightest idea, but home was so far away!

The lunchbox hits it’s target head-on.

The older child drops the mouse, which quickly scurries to the youngest boy, crawling up and hiding in his sweater.

The boy looks so relieved in that moment, a bright smile coming onto his face, aimed at William. William felt like a hero.

In all those three seconds.

He hears a loud noise and he finds himself on the ground. The world had gone black for that duration, and he’s sure the older boys had run off.

He didn’t hear what they said.

“Are you okay?” The boy asks, kneeling down to his side, “are you hurt?”

William sits up shakily. At the other’s look, he could guess that punch must’ve left a bad bruise. He lifts his hand to feel at it; his glasses had flown off his face. He could see them about a foot away, but couldn’t see if they were merely crooked or if the lenses had broken.

“I’m okay.” William answers at last. Man.....he probably should have just run home and got his dad, despite the distance. He felt a headache coming on that he wasn’t happy about.

Maybe he could take his afternoon nap early.

“They tooked your box.” the younger boy says. He looks guilty about it.

“Took?” William corrects. This boy was probably a little younger than him. That was okay! Maybe they could be friends?

“Were those your friends?” William asks, reaching to pick up his glasses. They were just bent a little, thankfully. He bends them back the way they were and slips them on.

“No.” the other answers, he holds up his hands and William can see the little furry bundle gently held there, “she is! She’s Pepper! Say hi!”

“Hi!” William replies. The loudness of his voice makes him wince in pain. Yeah. That’s a headache. He hadn’t gotten one of those ever since he started wearin’ glasses!

The mouse merely pokes her head out at the extra noise and then ducks her head back behind the fingers. It was obvious she was tuckered out from the bullies.

“I’m Wilson! What’s your name?”

“William.” William answers with a grin, “can I go home? My head hurts.”

Wilson nods, quickly standing up. He offers William a hand, and even though he didn’t really need it, William took it anyway. He liked this other boy.

Sure, he was down his favorite lunchbox, but maybe in the end it wasn’t such a bad trade. It was getting rusty anyway.

“Can I come with you?” Wilson asks, shuffling nervously where he stood, “my house won’t open.”

William doesn’t think much of the way it was said, too busy looking back and trying to figure out which house was his. “Sure! We can play in my yard or something!”

Wilson’s smile is wide and he seems quite happy at the idea, “Yeah!”

They go off together down the street, making sure to be careful along the way.

Just two boys and a rat.


	2. 10

Wilson comes to him in tears one morning about two months after William’s tenth birthday.

Pepper, his pet rat, had passed away peacefully overnight. It was heartbreaking for the both of them, as she’d been a good friend to them both.

William had expected it, having known from his dad that small animals like that never lived so long. He’d never told Wilson that, but....he doesn’t think it’d do any good if he ever did.

Wilson’s mom had a strict rule about her property in that Wilson could do nothing like dig or play in her gardens, and so that brought them here, at the edge of the forest behind William’s house, a shoebox sitting at the base of a tree, and two garden scoops from the garage.

It doesn’t take them so long, but they were both taking their time with it. It was hard work, and they were both trying not to break down into tears.

That rat had been the one to bring them together over the years. She may have been a rat, but she was _their_ rat. Their _friend_. They were both the most best of friends because of her.

It was sad to see her go.

Wilson had stopped crying as soon as they’d dug just deep enough the ground was getting too hard to break through with such small scoops.

Just as they’re done, sweat dripping down their faces and shoebox held in Wilson’s hands, they both stop.

“Should we say something?” William asks, “I remember my aunt had a ton of people saying things about her at her funeral.”

Wilson swallows, thumbs feeling along the lid of the box; Pepper had been wrapped up in her favorite orange towel, and looked to be just asleep. She looked like she could wake up at any moment to squeak at them and nibble the ends of their shoes like she’d always done before.

“I - I don’t know what to say.” Wilson admits. He looks like he was going to cry yet again, and William didn’t blame him one bit, as he felt the same.

“Something g-good about her is a good choice,” William answers, “I think she’d like to hear something like that.”

Wilson’s sniffle is all he gets in reply. Wilson gently opens the lid of the shoebox, giving her fur a few strokes with his fingers.

They both sit there, looking down to the poor animal, wishing they could have done something.

Then, Wilson begins to speak about her.

He starts with the day he got her, how happy she’d made him, how she’d been his choice of pet - his! - and how he’d gotten her from an old librarian he’d forgotten the name of. Pepper was just a baby back then, and Wilson had no idea how to care for her, but they’d made it work.

They’d made it work for three years.

She was always there, from sun up to sun down. She knew how to run in circles for treats, she knew how to open her cage when Wilson was in the room, she just....she was herself, and it made Wilson very happy.

She’d always greet William by nibbling at his shoes or licking his fingertips. She’d run up him to his shoulder, and would perch there for as long as Wilson was too busy for her. She was William’s second best friend, in a way, and she was loved.

Very loved.

Wilson is in tears. It’s probably not a very good speech for a funeral, but they’re just kids, and to them it was enough.

Wilson lowers the shoebox into the hole and they both cover it with dirt. They’re both crying at their loss during so, but it somehow gets done with very little dirt on their hands.

They mourn there for a good twenty minutes, before William is wiping the tears from his face with his arm. “Do you think she’d like flowers? A headstone?”

Wilson nods.

Neither of them make a move to get up.

William sighs, “I’ll miss her. She was a good ol’ rat. She wasn’t a-anything like the cartoons.”

Wilson nods.

William chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment. He remembers during his aunt’s funeral that his mom had taken it really hard, and hadn’t moved from her seat for an hour. She hadn’t spoken much at all that day.

At this thought, he does the same thing his dad had done; drape his jacket over her and wrap an arm around her shoulders.

Wilson gives him a small, sad grin.

They both needed the comfort.

  
-

  
At the end of the day, as the sun sets, there are two boys sitting together by a rather large rock, two garden scoops laying on the ground a few paces away, and a pile of too many dandelions to count.

Just two boys.


	3. 15

Wilson had been locked outside of his house again.

It really wasn’t surprising to William anymore, but it certainly was something to worry about. Usually, when Wilson was locked from the house, he can usually climb up his house and crawl back inside through his window.

But this time it’d been raining, and Wilson had told him that his window had been shut and locked.

It was raining so hard, William hadn’t even seen him while on his way back from his dogsitting job; he’d made twenty bucks today for playing with two dogs, and it was probably the most money he’d made from his work.

Wilson had been drenched to the bone, normally messy and oddly shaped hair falling over his shoulders and shoes squelching with each step.

They’d both ran all the way back to William’s home. By that time they were both shivering and sopping wet.

William’s mom had agreed to let Wilson stay the night, and so they were here in William’s room, dressed up in dry clothes, trying to regain any lost heat by sitting near the small heater William had.

“I had no idea it’d rain today!” Wilson says, “stuff felt like hail.”

“Because it was hail.” William chuckles, “a-anyway, why’d you get locked out?”

Wilson shrugs, “I think it’s ‘cause I chipped a cup this morning. Mom loves her ‘spensive dishes.”

William hums, “how’d you chip it? My mom just has uhm....plastic cups.”

“I sat it in the sink too hard,” Wilson shrugs yet again, “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Oh.”

They both sit there for a minute or two.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night,” Wilson says, “I didn’t know where to go.”

“No problem! If you ever need to stay somewhere, feel free to come here!” William made sure to say. He’d said similar things each time Wilson’s mentioned being locked outside.

He just wants Wilson to know that....if he ever felt lost or stuck, he can just come to William. William didn’t have everything down pat, but he’d help Wilson as much as he could anyway.

That’s what friends were for, right?

“Thanks.”

William nods, before reaching over to his bed and pulling his blanket off to drape it around them both. They’d sometimes sit underneath William’s blankets when they were younger, much like this. It was comforting.

Wilson seems to think so as well, pulling the blanket over his head much like a hood. William wasn’t about to complain about Wilson’s wet hair; he had so many blankets in his closet, he could easily pull another few out for tonight.

“Hey....what’s with the new book?” Wilson asks, taking William’s attention off him and to the book in question.

The book was some....strange book.

William had found it in the forest one day. It was behind the Pepper Tree. He had opened it, but it made him feel weird, and so he hadn’t touched it in a while. He left it sitting on the desk that morning after another failed attempt to read it.

“Oh....” William says. He’s not sure how to answer. If Wilson opened it, would he also feel that weird feeling?

That’d be bad. Wilson was lucky enough to not catch a cold from sitting in the rain so long. No need to add anything else to that possibility.

“It’s my....journal.”

Wilson raises an eyebrow at him, a cheeky grin growing on his face, “jjjjjjjjournal?” he drags out.

“Hey! Guys have journals.” William crosses his arms.

“Do you write about your girl crushes?” Wilson says, only to snort in laughter at the look William gives him.

William reaches out and pulls the blanket over Wilson, who screams in laughter. Wilson tries to kick the blanket off of him, but it was too late. William sees the perfect opportunity.

They both wrestle like that, William poking at Wilson’s sides until the other could no longer breathe, both laughing and trying to get at each other through a blanket.

By the time Wilson manages to get a leg out of the blanket, there’s a soft knock on William’s door.

William crawls off Wilson just in time for his mother to peak into the room, “what’s going on?” Wilson asks, still tangled in a blanket.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” William’s mom grins. William was relieved that his dad was in town that day. His dad would have a fit, catching them like that.

Wilson manages to sit up, tossing the blanket off himself. William gives her a sheepish smile, “we were j-just playin’ around, mum.”

“Sure sounded like it,” she laughs, “I could hear you both all the way in the kitchen! I thought something had happened.”

William moves the blanket’s edge away from the heater, “Sorry. We’ll try to keep it down.”

“Just be careful.” She says. Wilson nods, giving her a quiet ‘yes ma’am’.

As soon as the door clicks closed Wilson jabs a finger into William’s side, making the boy shriek. William retaliates by bunching the blanket up quickly and throwing it at him, knocking him back to the floor.

They both laugh at their own antics.

The book was forgotten.

It was just two boys, a blanket, and a heater.

And, though simple, that was the most comforting thing.


	4. 20

Charlie had insisted that William check out the library before his next show. She’d been searching up all the ways to make his show ‘boom’, but he...wasn’t sure if he was fine with it ‘booming’.

It was just him doing the things he loved.

Ever since finding a book in the forest behind his old childhood home, he’d figured out how to read it.

It was magic, basically. He can control what looked like shadows....it was pretty cool. He was very excited about it.

Also it did bring in a lot of money. People paid big bucks to see some guy juggle vases using nothing but his shadow. It’d given him enough money to get out of his parent's home and into his own little dinky apartment out in the city.

Sadly, that had meant saying goodbye to people he knew there and leaving familiar settings.

He could always visit, but he hasn’t even thought about it in a good year or two now. His shows were the only thing he’d thought about for a while now.

He was no longer William, the dinky ‘girly’ nerd when he was on a stage; he was Maxwell the great, cigar smokin’ shadow totin’ magician who wore fancy suits and ties and was sharp as a knife.

On the stage he was confident. He was someone else, someone daring, brave, dangerous...

Off the stage? He felt like a laugh.

He had been thinking of just ‘changing’ himself by changing his name to Maxwell and going off of that, but....some small part of him just didn’t want wimpy little William to go.

He’d....he’d always been William. William was him, was familiar. He still thought of being Maxwell full-time, but....just the thought of it made him worry sometimes.

The library was rather large, holding a selection of up to ten thousand books. Sadly, it’s probably seen better days. Vines were crawling up one side of the building, and the balconies looked far too dangerous for anyone to sit at.

Such a shame.

Walking through the shelves, he quickly browses the book titles. This place seemed to have everything. He wasn’t sure which book would have anything on how to start up a theatrical business of sorts. Rounding the corner all of a sudden wasn’t his brightest idea, for sure.

He very nearly topples over as he bumps into someone, the other person letting out a shriek, books flying out of their hands.

He hastily uses a shadow, hooking it around their waist so they don’t fall, grabbing their hand as well.

What a sight they must make.

The person laughs, “ _William_?”

William blinks, before blushing, setting the person back on their feet using his shadows. He lets go of their hand, sheepish.

Before him was a man he hadn’t seen in about half a year now.

“Wilson?”

Before William can say much more, he’s engulfed in a hug, Wilson pulls back before William can even utter a word, “where have you been? It’s been a while!”

William stutters a bit, nervously using his shadows to pick up the books. Wilson gives them a curious look, but surprisingly stays quiet about them.

Wilson was always into science and scientific facts and theories. So him not questioning his shadows was....odd, but William felt better not having to explain them.

Especially not since he had his book with him. It was called the Codex Umbra. He didn’t know how Wilson would take it that he’d lied to him all these years about his ‘journal’.

Wilson doesn’t seem to catch onto the fact that William was holding his ‘journal’, though, merely grinning up at him.

When they were boys - even teenagers - they’d always been about the same height. But now William could see the top of Wilson’s head. It was pretty strange not being eye-to-eye, but they’d learned to adjust.

Sadly, as soon as William had moved out and met Charlie during one of his roadside shows, he’d been so caught up with his second life that he’d completely forgotten about his first one.

He’d forgotten about his friend. His first friend, now that he thinks about it.

“Oh. Just acting and stuff. Found a job, some friends....” William answers. He says ‘friends’ quickly, in hopes Wilson doesn’t mind.

Wilson really doesn’t mind, though. William.....had forgotten how kind Wilson was to him. It was welcoming to see a friend not be jealous of his other friends; he’d had it happen so often with his extra showmen, he’d completely given up on being pals with any of them.

“That’s good! Maybe you can get your friends together and introduce us?” Wilson smiles, taking his books from the shadows, adjusting them so they all sat straight and nearly identical in his arms. “How’s the job going for you?”

“My friends are....a...uhm....a bit busy,” William explains, “I mean there is _one_ I could introduce you to. She’s been my assistant throughout my acting career.”

As an afterthought, he nervously tacks on: “My job is going well. How about you?”

He....doesn’t know what was happening at this time, but seeing Wilson’s smile falter made his heart twist in the same way it would if Wilson were replaced with Charlie.

William....loved Charlie, but he also loved Wilson.

Which was probably bad. It was why he’d left home so quickly, back when he was just eighteen. He’d always had feelings toward his best friend, but.....it got to be too much.

Men loving other men....it was forbidden. They’d both get into serious trouble for it.

That didn’t mean he didn’t love the other man, though.

“Things aren’t going so well,” Wilson admits. His smile was now a grimace of sorts, “my dad took off with the family savings, so I’m pretty much living off student loans.”

At the frown on William’s face, Wilson brings his smile back. It was fake, and William could clearly see that, now, “but it’s fine! I’m still kickin’, you doof.”

Doof. Hah.

William offers a smile of his own.

“Hey....uh.....if you ever need a place to stay, feel free to come find me.” William says. The words may be different, but the meaning felt old on his lips. Even if he and Wilson no longer hung out anymore, they were still best friends.

They knew each other.

.... _Knew_?

William’s mind backpedals so fast he barely hears Wilson’s response: “Yeah....yeah. Same to you too. I don’t have the best home set up right now, but you’re always welcome to my place, pal.”

Wilson...knew him. Oh. Wilson didn’t know about his alternate persona, did he? Did he know about Maxwell? His shows?

Is that why he didn’t question the shadows?

“Is something the matter?” William can’t help but ask at that.

Wilson shrugs, hefting the books up, “nothing. I’m just.....I _missed_ you.”

Oh. Oh no.

William felt so guilty now.

Wilson’s parents had left shortly after kicking him out a year ago. Wilson had told him he was staying with someone he knew, but....was he _really_?

Did William accidentally leave his friend all alone? Did Wilson really need a place to go, and William wasn’t there?

He swallows the lump in his throat.

“Anyway!” Wilson cuts in, “I have to go.”

William feels....horrible.

“Can I have your address?”

At least he could have that, right?

Wilson nods quickly.

William opens up the Codex Umbra. He was usually against writing anything inside of the large - and most likely ancient - book, but maybe if he sees Wilson’s address during his shows, he’ll remember to send letters every once in a while. Or visit.

They both quickly share addresses. It turned out Wilson’s address was most likely permanent; he had found an old cabin out in the woods quite a distance from the city, and had bought it on a whim. He just had to move his stuff out of his old place, but that’s where he’d be living.

All the better, in William’s mind. At least he had a home.

“I really do have to go now,” Wilson sighs, looking up at the clock the library had hung up, “let’s try to catch each other when we’re free?”

William nods.

If he were Maxwell, he would have had the courage to reach out and give Wilson a parting hug.

But no, he merely shares a half-hearted ‘goodbye’.

He merely watches his friend walk away.

Just a man stands there. A man and conflicting thoughts.

You could say it was just two men, but at the moment he was but one man.

He swallows his guilt down.

Like he does when he’s a different person.


	5. 25

William was sad to leave to America, but he was excited all the same.

Charlie had bought them both tickets for a cruise out to America. There, William planned to meet up with a brother he had no idea he’d even had until close to two months ago.

Jack Carter...his brother. Strange!

Turns out when his parents had left America, they’d given Jack a choice of staying with their grandparents. He’d chosen to stay in America with them.

He had a lovely wife, a home of his own, and his own business. The man had truly been living the life. He’d been so excited to find out Maxwell’s address. He’d been following the few snippet news articles of ‘the great Maxwell’ for years, now. He’d sent a letter to one of the theaters William was going to perform in, and through that they’d been writing each other since.

Of course....the cruise wasn’t for another month or so. They were just preparing the crew and such at the moment, so it was going to take a while.

Wilson makes a face at a child who’d been looking over her mother’s shoulder. The child sticks her tongue out at him.

This had been going on since they got on the train.

Charlie found it adorable. She’d elbow William every so often and whisper little things like ‘he’s so silly, it’s cute’. William agreed each time, but he felt more embarrassed than anything.

He knew Wilson liked playing with kids when he was in a good mood, but in a train full of people who might recognize Maxwell? Well....William felt a little nervous about it.

It was cute, though. Wilson was really great. The kid hadn’t cried once since he started his game. She’d been fussy and whiny when everyone had boarded. It was great they didn’t have to deal with that bomb now.

Charlie had quickly gotten to liking Wilson after William had the guts to introduce the two. (Actually, She’d just caught the two bickering around in a store together. William had been taking Wilson to the store every so often, and they’d always go back and forth over which foods lasted longer.)

And so she’d introduced Wilson to ‘Maxwell’. Wilson wasn’t too impressed by William’s other side, but he supported it as long as it made William happy.

And it did make William happy; his growing fame and growing fans meant he’d be able to live easier and easier every day.

They were currently on a train to London. Charlie had scored an act at one of their most famous stages, and William was excited to get there. Wilson was currently enjoying summer away from college, so Charlie had drug him along with them.

The train wasn’t really ideal for William, and he did have the money for first class, but Wilson had been worried about it. To Wilson, a few hours on a ‘lower class’ train ride sure beat spending an extra hundred bucks for ‘first class’.

Charlie had instantly sided with Wilson; she loved how the man didn’t back down, even when William was Maxwell.

Heck, if Wilson was riled up enough about something William says, he seemed the sort to just jump up on stage and banter for an entire audience to see, scary shadow magic or not.

Wilson may be a coward to other people, but to William.....he was truly a brave man.

A wonderful, wonderful man.

A light elbow to his side has him looking down to Charlie. She’s giving him a knowing smile.

Charlie was....well....she was his love interest, in a way. But William loved _both_ Wilson and Charlie. He’d been so confused and sad and guilty about it for so long.

One day, Charlie sat him down about it. It took him a while to actually find the words he was looking for back then, but when he found them....she understood him.

Charlie had told him that you love who you love. People can’t tell you who to be, or who to love. If you happened to love two people, that’s fine.

And when asked, she said she was all for loving the both of them; Wilson had turned into a great friend, she’d told William, and she would have been stuck in the same boat as William had she not realized William had the same problem.

So.....they both loved each other and Wilson.

So, yes, Charlie does rib on him about the staring and the goofy smiles he gives.

Which she is doing now.

He gives her a shy smile.

She holds onto his hand.

Perhaps Wilson wouldn’t mind having the both of them, some day.

Some day, they’ll tell Wilson all about it, and maybe he’ll admit he loves them both just as much.

Some day.

 

* * *

 

0

* * *

 

It’s raining by the time they finally make it to the exit of the train station.

The rolling thunder would make one of his shows a bit more spooky, William thinks. He makes sure to keep that idea close.

Sadly, as he soon realizes....none of them had brought an umbrella. Or rain coats.

They’d all set off in their usual get up, one or two bags of clothes and essentials each. That was it.

Wilson whistles low. “Didn’t expect this rain. Radio didn’t say anything about it.”

“Do they ever?” Charlie sighs, “Guess we can run for it.”

“In high heels?” Wilson asks, “sorry, Charlie, but I don’t think I can carry you if you break a leg.”

Charlie stares him down. She lifts each foot slowly, taking off her heels so she stood barefoot, daring him to say anything. She giggles as Wilson rolls his eyes, grinning at her antics.

William laughs, “no! No need for that!” he opens his book, “I’ll just use my magic.”

Wilson scoffs, “magic isn’t even real.”

William shrugs, “real enough for me!”

“Y’know...” Wilson starts, his shoulders hunching up a little at seeing the large shadow slowly move above them, “one of these days your ‘magic’ is going to do more harm than good.”

Glancing at Charlie, she merely shrugs a shoulder. This wasn’t the first time Wilson has brought up his irrational fear of William’s magic.

“My magic is perfectly safe. It’s just a trick to make the audience applaud.” William says matter-of-factly, “besides, if anything went wrong, I could very easily close the book.”

Wilson stands there, staring at him for a moment. Analyzing him.

“I wonder if all this ‘magic’ talk is clogging your senses.” Wilson says, “because it feels dangerous to me.”

“You’re just bein’ a scaredy cat!” Charlie butts in, “it’s harmless stuff. He’s been using it for years in his shows.”

William finds himself nodding along with what she’d said.

“Do you ever wonder just _why_ everyone finds his ‘powers’ so scary?” Wilson questions. “I’m sorry, William, but I know what I feel.”

“Then what _do_ you feel, Wilson?” Maxwell says, with just a bit too much venom in his voice. He immediately gives an apologetic look to the other man after.

Wilson looks up at him, and then glances between the both of them.

“I’m going to go book a hotel for us. I’ll see you after the show.”

He walks off in the rain, the water seeming to do nothing to him as he leaves.

Charlie frowns at that, “we should talk to him....” she suggests.

William frowns as well, “I....I really didn’t mean to say it like that.”

She pats him on the arm, “he’s probably jittery from the ride; I heard long travel does that to some people.”

“Yeah.” William says. Charlie leads him out of the station, and he can’t help but look the way the other man had gone.

The theater isn’t too far away. They can walk there and scout things out.

Just a confused man and a supportive woman.


	6. ??

Maxwell sits across the fire from him. It was springtime, and they all had made it through winter safe and sound, if a bit cold and sniffily.

It was dusk about this time. Everyone was either headed to bed, or preparing for tomorrow. Wes in particular had been on trap duty with Webber, and they’d been making as many traps as they could.

It was pretty inspiring to see. He was glad they’d all managed to find each other, or this place would have been...hard.

He had lived alone here, but it was far better with other people. Way easier to survive, anyway.

Maxwell has a shadow above him, trailing from his book. Thankfully it doesn’t seem to bother anyone there. Wolfgang had already gone to bed, and none of the kids minded the magician’s magic.

It was starting to sprinkle, and Wilson can predict it’d turn into a full storm sometime soon. How anyone could sleep through it was unknown to him. In a house it was easy to, but in a tent? Impossible to ignore the thunder shaking the ground.

Wilson adjusts his grip on the umbrella; he’d been just about to open it up when a wave of guilt hits him.

Ah....William, you stubborn fool.

Now that Wilson and Maxwell were so close to each other, Wilson can see it; the crooked nose, the squinted eyes, the once wavy hair that’d been cut one too many times, the book....

Yeah. That was indeed William.

He’d had suspicions, but it was so much easier to consider William dead or missing, he just hadn’t thought of Maxwell as anything but _Maxwell_.

Perhaps Maxwell didn’t either.

Wilson was no psychologist, but he could guess that after so long on the throne, William had to bring out Maxwell. Maxwell was, as William once told him, a brave man.

...Probably an insane man, too, but he was working on it.

Wilson sighs quietly, shutting his half-open umbrella with a roll of his eyes.

He can’t believe he’s doing this, but....he loved William.

And, he supposed he loves Maxwell. As stupid as he can be sometimes, he was still William. He was Maxwell _and_ William.

And that realization was one of the things to make him act.

He stands up, walks around the fire. He sits beside Maxwell a bit too heavily, but neither of them point it out. He clacks open the makeshift umbrella, raising it so it covered over Maxwell and him, just beneath the shadow.

Maxwell closes his book gently.

And then turns his head away.

A stubborn, prideful man.

Wilson grins, though. He was willing to forgive him. For _his_ sake, anyway. He wasn’t going to forgive Maxwell for dragging everyone else here.

But for his sake, he’s long since forgiven him.

Wickerbottom looks across the fire to them. She has an eyebrow raised in question, and Wilson is sure Maxwell is going to avoid her for as long as she questions this action.

“Hey.” Wilson says, quietly so as not to gain the attention of anyone else.

Maxwell shoots him a glance, “what?” he asks. It sounds tired. Maxwell hasn’t slept most of the winter, so Wilson could get as to why.

Wilson elbows him lightly, pointing at the book, “that where you write about your girl crushes?”

Maxwell looks caught between laughing and punching him off the log.

He huffs a laugh instead, “fool.”

“Doof.” Wilson replies.


End file.
